The Captured Soul
by USUK's Love
Summary: Post WWII. Something's seriously wrong with America, and it's up to the former Axis and Allies, including Britain, to save the world while snapping America out of it. And what's with the Brit's strange dreams...? USUK


**A/N: Hey everybody! I know this account says I'm new, but I'm not. I had another account, but after a family crisis, I couldn't continue using it because, for a long weird reason, it brought up unwanted memories. But nonetheless, I'm back to writing! This story will hopefully be many chapters long (around 20?). I think this might be my best story idea I've had! Please, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. If I did, there would me much USUK and Franada.**

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The Brewing Storm

Birds chirped in sweet tune as the sun's rays stretched and smoothed over the ground much like a cat does before napping. There weren't many clouds in the sky that day, and a gentle breeze caressed the inhabitants of Earth as the trees whispered amongst themselves. Yes, it was a beautiful day in Italy.

But, much too many of the countries' discontent, they were stuck at another long world meeting. Austria, who was one that never complained, was trying to get more open trading routes, but easily became irritated when he looked up and saw most of the other countries, big and small, looking uninterested or captivated by the window.

Britain ignored Austria as the very German-like country began to rant on how "the world is in shambles" because of their "uncaring attitude". The smaller countries frowned and looked slightly worried, the stronger and bigger ones, like Britain himself, didn't seem to care about Austria's sudden burst of anger.

"_No one wants to be stuck at this meeting!"_ the Brit silently concluded. "_Hell, Germany even looks bored."_ Britain swept his glance across the room in boredom but found nothing that interested him. So, he continued to look out the glass window until another familiar nation stood up.

"Um, excuse me. But I think it would be a good idea to go ahead and stop this meeting. We aren't getting anything accomplished and it's obvious that we won't," said he with a brunette ponytail dangling from behind his head. A small panda was hooked onto his left shoulder and watching the strange room curiously. Britain, though he was across the enormous room, could plainly tell it was China and silently thanked him as most of the nations in the room nodded and murmured in agreement.

"Then it's decided. We'll pick up where we left off next month, same day," Germany spoke. "I believe we're holding it with-"

"Ah, that would be me~!" Britain blinked at the sudden burst of this familiar voice and didn't look to where the voice came from. He could tell by the accent it was France, so instead of listening to him gloat about the natural beauty of his land and becoming irritated, he got up like his fellow countries and strolled out into the noisy hallway.

The hallways of these huge buildings were always wide and high. A green carpet with an elegant design matched the plain, but still intriguing, walls. Chandeliers hung from ceiling and let out a soft glow of light since there were no windows. It was very rich in design, but yet it also suffocated him with all of this aristocrat level.

"Yo, Britain!" greeted a recognizable voice and breaking off his silent observations. The Brit turned around in hesitation and saw America casually walking towards him. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and the red and white striped tie he was wearing had started to come loose from its original knot. Britain frowned.

"America, must you always look so sloppy at times like this? You're supposed to dress your best at these world meetings."

"Ah, who cares? No one was paying attention in that room. _You_ weren't even paying attention," the younger nation replied with an arrogant snort. "Anyways, I thought that I should go sightseeing before I had to leave. You wanna come?"

Arthur shrugged slightly and answered with a, "I suppose." Immediately and quite suddenly, America took hold of the other and pulled him out of the building, dodging countries as he sprinted. The older nation was bewildered.

"America! Slow down! You're being ridiculous!" Britain ordered. The taller of the two finally came to a stop and began to chuckle.

"Sorry. I really wanted to get here before I wasted too much time." The two men straightened up and looked all around them. It was mid afternoon and the sun's rays hadn't dimmed too much. They began to walk down a stone pathway, taking a deep breath of crisp air. It was refreshing after being stuck in a muggy building all day. Small birds fluttered to and from trees, whistling at one another in what seemed to be happy delight.

A particular pair of birds weren't in on the joyful melody. Instead, they were making quick, agitated chirps at one another and fought over what looked to be a small, unimportant nut. But both animals tugged at it in their direction, until it finally slipped from their tightened beaks and fell to the ground and out of sight. Instead of racing after it, the two began to peck at one another and squabble. Britain observed them carefully, chuckling quietly. America raised a brow in pure curiosity.

"What's so funny?"

"Hm? Oh, well isn't it strange?"  
"Is what strange?"

"Those birds act just like some countries do. They want the same thing, fight over it, and keep fighting until they eventually forget what their even fighting for. It's all very…peculiar how much we have in common with animals, even birds."

The American nodded slowly in what the Brit concluded was understanding. Then he looked back up to the thick trees, noticing that the birds had finally ceased fighting and went on their ways. They smiled and continued on their intended path.

Along their small adventure, the countries maneuvered their way back into the maze of buildings, streets, and humans. America would occasionally point something of potential interest out, running to and fro. The Brit slowly followed and used his time to quietly seep into deep thought.

"_I wonder if _they_ stay. Or does it get better and these things go away…?" _While the Brit mulled it over, he didn't notice that they had made it back to the original building. It's tall and monstrous size gleamed from the sun's close-to-setting rays.

"_It's always this way. I don't understand . . . I just don't understa-"_

"Hey, Britain?"

"Huh?" he replied, blinking.

"You were spacing out. What's on your mind?" asked the American with his signature curious look. Britain tried to look nonchalant.

"It was nothing. It's just things I must take care of when I get home, is all."

"Oh," was the simple reply. They younger nation suddenly looked down at his watch, "Oh, hey, it's time for me to go."

"Go? You were planning to leave right after the meeting?"

"Well, yeah. I told you I wanted to go sightseeing before I had to leave."

"I thought that meant before it became too dark, and that you were leaving early in the morning," he replied. America shook his head.

"Nope. I'm going to call a taxi to pick me up, so I'll see you next month."

"There will be no need for that. I rented a vehicle when I came here, so I'll drive you to the airport."

"Eh, you don't need-"

"Don't start with that nonsense. The airport is not far from the hotel I'm staying at." The American sighed then smiled at the offer, nodding gratefully. Britain led him to the shockingly almost-empty parking lot in silence, searching for the vehicle. He quickly located it, unlocked it, and slid into the driver's seat. America did the same with the passenger's.

Arthur backed out of the parking space, put the car into drive, and quickly but safely left the parking lot. He drove down a one way street and onto a small curved road. A few cars passed by on the other side, but it was mostly quiet and peaceful. Neither nation spoke, but instead let silence seep in between them. America looked out his clear window, watching the lovely scenery fly by the car. Still, the silent tension built up even though both tried to ignore it. It wasn't until Britain turned onto a small and deserted road that something was finally uttered.

"Where are we going?" America asked, turning his gaze to the green-eyed country.

"It's a shortcut."  
"Shortcut? What if you get us lost?"

"I am most certainly not going to get us lost!"

"Are you taking me out here to kill me?" the American asked suddenly, shifting slightly. The Brit looked at him sharply with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

"What in bloody blazes are you talking about?"

"You're planning on killing me!"

"Did you hit your head or are you just a complete idiot?"

"Why else would you take me out where no one is?"

"It's just a quicker way to get to the airport, you git!" Arthur snapped. Where in the world was this coming from? "What's gotten into you?"

"If you're going to murder me, then at least make sure you tell Canada he needs to toughen up. And tell France to go an-"

"America! I am not, I repeat, I am _NOT_ going to kill you," he growled. "So stop this silly idea and see reason!" Britain's grip on the steering wheel increased sharply and noticeably. The tension in America's voice melted away as he spoke again.

"Ha, dude, calm down. I can't believe you actually thought that I thought you were going to kill me," the American replied, a broad grin on his face. A chuckle managed to escape from deep within his throat. "You're gullible."

"Or maybe I thought that you were actually that stupid to believe in something like that."

"Then you still fell for it."

"Just shut up," he snipped. "Just don't talk for the rest of the way, alright?"

"Aw, come on. It was just a joke."

"Where did you get your sense of humor? Idiot!"

"It's not like I pretended to kill someone!"

"So what? It still wasn't funny. At all!" Britain shouted, gritting his teeth. Sometimes he felt as if he actually might end up killing him by suffocation.

"Okay, okay. Geez, sorry," the younger nation mumbled. "I didn't mean to totally freak you out. I promise I won't talk anymore." Arthur sighed, trying to keep his attention on the road.

"Just don't do that to me anymore, especially when I'm driving . . . and you don't have to keep your mouth shut anytime we drive. And you owe me for that! Fair enough?" America smiled.

"Yeah, that seems fair," he replied, sighing quietly. He stared out the window again. "So how much longer do we have until we arrive there?"

"Just about five minutes." As said, it wasn't long until the Brit had parked the rented car into the airport's huge parking lot. The two nations got out and walked into the building. After finding the right line, America turned to Britain.

"Thanks for driving me here. I appreciated it."

"You're welcome."  
"Well," he sighed, "I better go. I'll see you in about a month?"  
"That's right."

"Alright, bye. Have a safe trip back"

"Goodbye and you too," the Brit said slowly, watching the blue-eyed male turn and leave for his flight. He himself turned and walked back into the parking lot, all the while staring down at the concrete in front of him. He opened the car door in deep thought and was about to slide in until something caught his eye. He looked towards the eastern horizon and saw a small, soft section of gloomy black in the now-orange sky. It didn't seem to move much, but its darkness seemed as if it might swallow up the whole sky.

"Thunderheads?" he murmured to himself. "Looks like it'll be one heck of a storm . . ." But as he said the words, he realized they sounded unusually hollow, as if they didn't belong to him or hadn't left his tongue. A feeling of dread and anxiety unexpectedly began to wash over him. His stomach performed tight and twisting summersaults, which made him feel as if he might be sick. He leaned onto the warm metal of the car for support, in case he actually came face to face with his stomach content. Much to his relief, the acute nausea subsided in a matter of seconds as he finally got used to his abdomen's gymnastic training.

"_Something isn't right . . ." _The thought suddenly made itself known as it floated through his mind. He shook it off. It'd been a long day, and he was tired. After he got some good sleep, and this ugly storm passed, he'd be just fine. He got in and started the car, sighing. And as he pulled out of the lot and onto the street, and even though he wanted to ignore it, the little voice inside of him whispered again and again.

_"Something's very wrong . . ."_

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**A/N: I hope the introduction chapter was okay. Wait until you find out what's going to happen~**_  
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**Anyways, my fellow fic readers, please review and subscribe! Until next time! :)**


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